Monterey Jazz Festival – A Story in Crappy Phone Camera Pics

September 23, 2011 6:57 am

I spent last weekend in Monterey, for the annual, historic Jazz Festival.

Now, I could lie and say I purchased tickets and got to relax and enjoy the music…but in actuality, I helped sell merchandise (mugs, t-shirts, colostomy bags) with my friend and her boss (who owned the merch company).

This consisted of long days, schlepping overpriced souveniers to the drunken elderly and trying to eat as much soul and Creole festival food as humanly possible.

You could easily tell the median age of crowd were in their early 100’s. This was evidenced by each of the main stages being stocked with ample seating. Try finding one single chair at Coachella.

Often times I’d be stuck listening to the honking, squeaking, tortured saxaphones playing at the stage situated directly in front of our store and wondered if that kind of experiment jazz, which I loathe, is used in interrogations banned by the US government.

We spent four nights at the Super 8. I’m not sure which chicken came first, but I sincerely doubt Motel 6 is their Facebook friend.

As I lay in bed each night, I took a moment to examine the bedding that encompassed me.

And what items I should be letting touch my skin.

We all know and fear that dreaded, scratchy excuse for a comforter (with mandatory 80’s floral patterns).

It is neither comforting, nor warm.

Unless you’re absolutely exhausted or wasted, your best bet is to toss that body fluid factory directly on the ground. Just make sure not to lose a sock or bra in it’s deadly folds.

There is often times a little blanket draped over the end of the bed for a splash of color (usually curdled cream or ancient mustard) and most likely placed there to disguise the tacky Vegas carpet patterns on the comforter.

What I find beguiling is how every cheap motel also includes this odd, velveteen sheet layer. Does anyone know what I’m talking about?

Now, I’ve never seen a velvet sheet in anyone’s home before, but for some reason they exist in every motel.

I’m assuming this astro turf like velour is a cheap way of keeping in warmth but it just gives me the heebies. Extra long fibers to pick up germs and diseases, like a flattened duster.

You can guarantee they’re only washed after the crime scene tape has been removed from the room by the FBI.

The only thing you can somewhat relax about touching is the stark white, gossamer-thin, fitted sheet and pillow cases. You can tell they’re washed because the blood stains are usually super faded. Fresh blood stains are absolutely unacceptable!

Luxurious slumber will soon be mine!

Ok, as I spent most of my time selling festival wares and sneaking sips of bloody marys, I will now shut up and let you see all the crap my body did it’s darndest to digest this past weekend.